Locked In
by TellMeATale
Summary: 4th December 2018
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

She sat alone in the silent factory, the girls had long since gone home and with them they had taken the low hum of the machines, the tinny radio noise and the incessant nattering. She could never work out why the sounds from the factory floor had made her so much less productive during the day than the empty silence she sat in now, but most days she preferred the factory like this. Quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

She checked her watch, Simon was running late, she'd turned the computer off half an hour ago in anticipation of his arrival. She had resorted to Googling information about golfers to impress the clients she would most likely be late to meet now. She would've called Simon to cancel ten minutes ago as he was running so late, but truth was she was so flattered when he had asked to talk to her about doing some work experience in the factory that she was giving him a leeway she didn't usually grant people.

Finally, she heard the factory door creak open and shut, but she froze when the voice she heard next was not that of her former step son.

"Si, I still don't understand what we are doing in-" Peter followed his son into the factory office, stopping dead when he saw a flash of anger across his ex-wife's face.

"What's he doing here?" she motioned to Peter, her eyes staring at her former step son.

"He has a name," Peter waved.

"Look," Simon tried to explain. "You two have been dancing around each other for months and it's getting really boring for everyone else."

"So, you're not wanting to talk to me about a work experience placement?"

"Not exactly, no."

"Right then," she rose to her feet, throwing her phone in her bag and grabbing her coat from the back of her chair. "I have a dinner to get-"

"You know what today is don't you?" Simon asked them both as they looked blankly back at him. "It's your wedding anniversary."

"The day he pulled your babysitter you mean?" she sighed, gesturing to Peter.

"And we've gone from zero to Tina in five seconds flat." Peter rolled his eyes.

"Did you put him up to this?" she rounded on her ex.

"I set this up on my own," Simon removed Carla's keys and her phone from her bag.

"Oi! Give me them back!"

"Everyone can see you two should get back together."

"Give me my stuff back Simon," Carla's voice was low as she held her hand out.

"Even mum and Auntie Toyah were saying it today."

"Si, me and your dad are just friends…"

Carla trailed off as she watched Simon turn on his heel and sprint out the door, she followed him with Peter hot on her heels, but by the time she had caught him up he had already slammed the door behind him and locked it.

"I've got both of your phones; the factory phone has been cut off and I've got the only set of keys!" he shouted through the locked door. "I'll be back for you in the morning."

"Simon Barlow, you open this door right now!" Carla screamed through the door but he was gone. "Simon? Simon! Simon Barlow!"

Peter chuckled next to her.

"You set this up, didn't you?" she looked at him accusingly.

"And there's the death stare, could level cities that thing. I wouldn't want to be Simon tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? You don't actually think we're staying in here all night, do you?"

"I'll be in the office when you've exhausted all escape options."

Carla busied herself double checking all of the doors, he could hear her angrily muttering to herself as he slowly span around in circles on her office chair. It was in here that he had first found her absolutely plastered, that was the first time he realised how fragile she really was. He still didn't quite understand why she had fallen for him all those years ago, the more he had got to know her, the more in awe of her he had become and the less her feelings for him made sense.

She came bursting back in to the office like a tornado, having checked and double checked all of the exits. She picked up the factory phone, dialling a number and listening, throwing it across the office when it became clear that it had been disconnected. She moved to her desktop, turning it on and waiting impatiently for it to start up.

"A real chip off the old block isn't he?" she seethed as she waited impatiently for the computer.

"I'll take that as a compliment."

"You would."

The computer screen lit up and she typed in her log in details but it flashed up that her password was incorrect. She tried again, but the same message flagged up. She slammed the keyboard angrily when it happened a third time.

"How has he locked me out of my own system?" she raged.

"If only he could use his powers for good and not evil hey?"

"When I get my hands on him I am going to kill him. Literally kill him. I've got a client waiting for me at a dinner I'm never going to make."

"And here was me thinking you got all dressed up for me."

"Oh please," she rolled her eyes, sitting back in her chair.

"Soon as it's going to be such a long night, shall I brew up?" Peter rose to his feet.

"Coffee, strong enough-"

"-to stand a spoon in. I know." He smiled as he headed for the kitchen.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Carla sat with her feet resting on her desk, flicking through an old Vogue magazine she had found during her brief quest for freedom. She couldn't concentrate on the words in front of her though, reading the same sentence over and over again, ultra-aware of Peter's presence on the other side of the desk. They'd become close recently, closer than she'd care to admit, closer than she would've ever thought they would be again. He had leaned on her when he split with Toyah after the baby debacle and she had been quietly impressed at how well he'd coped. The Peter she married would've gone off at the deep end, wallowing in his misery, the 'woe is me' act ready and raring to go as he drank himself into oblivion at Toyah's betrayal. But this Peter, she couldn't help but be pleasantly surprised at, and she hated herself for that, for setting the bar so low for him. Not letting on to her discomfort though she continued to flip pointlessly through the magazine.

Peter sat facing his ex-wife on the other side of the desk. Without a magazine to keep him occupied he instead faffed with everything in front of him, incessantly clicking the stapler, wrapping sellotape around his wrist and then peeling it off. When the roll of tape finally ran out he picked up the elastic band ball from the desk and bounced it, over and over and over again.

"Do you mind?" Carla finally snapped.

"What?" he looked over innocently.

"Stop fidgeting."

He placed the ball on the desk, and they resumed their silence. He watched as she pretended to read her magazine, he had never known her flick so quickly through a Vogue, pretence was the only reasonable explanation.

"We don't have to sit here not saying anything at all you know, we're not strangers," he finally piped up.

"More's the pity," she mumbled to herself.

"What?"

"Did you concoct this hair brained scheme with Si?" she raised an expectant eyebrow at him.

"Would you believe me if I said I didn't?"

"Nope."

"I'll not waste my breath then."

Carla returned to her magazine.

"So, back to silence then?" he questioned.

"Believe me, if I could walk out of that door right now I would."

"But you can't, so how's about we have an actual conversation?"

"Fine," she slammed her magazine shut. "What do you want to talk about?"

"Si clearly wants us to talk about us."

"No no no, we're not going there. I've locked all that stuff in a box up here," she tapped her temple. "It was so long ago now I've lost the key."

"We would say that was unhealthy in the group."

"In the group?" she laughed cruelly.

"What?"

"I'm sorry, I just forgot I've got sober, zen Pete in the house tonight."

"Look I'll start this off then, I wanted to say that what I did to you, what I did to us-"

"You seriously do not need-"

"Just let me finish?"

She sighed loudly and gestured her hand irritably for him to continue.

"I want you to know that I take 100% of the responsibility for everything that happened."

A wry smile spread across her face as she leant back in her chair and folded her arms. "Who else would be responsible Peter?"

"No one obviously, I just-"

"Funny thing to say though, since it hasn't crossed my mind for one moment that the breakdown of our marriage was anything but your fault."

"You know you're the woman of every man's dreams, you're smart, funny, sexy."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"I am getting to a point."

"Get there quicker."

"With everything that happened, when it all came out I was so busy trying to win you back that I never told you, unequivocally, how sorry I am for what I did to us, and to our baby."

Carla stared at her ex-husband, attempting to remain indifferent as she felt the rug pulled from under her at the mention of their baby girl. Her mind was whirring as she tried to decide the best response, a response that wouldn't reveal to him her inner turmoil. She eventually shrugged in an attempt to appear nonchalant.

"Are you expecting me to choke up?" she replied coldly.

"No, course not-"

"Then what are you expecting exactly?"

"Honestly? To the mention of our baby? Cold indifference just like that," he smiled hopefully.

"I'm glad I'm so predictable."

"Only to me. You know we never talked about her, not once."

"Look I told you before, we really do not need to drag this stuff up. It's ancient history, we've both moved on."

"Maybe." He shrugged. "Maybe you're a pretty tough act to follow."


	3. Chapter 3

Thank you so much for the lovely reviews!

Chapter Three

Carla had finally decided upon a convincing task to undertake - tidying the factory floor. She faffed with straightening swivel chairs and reject bins, fiddled with the machines to make sure they all had enough thread. She found small tasks to complete and hoped she could drag it out long enough for Peter to fall asleep and not bring up any more of their past.

She could feel his eyes on her as he leant on the doorframe to the office, hands delved coolly into his pockets. She resisted the urge to turn and look at him but it was proving difficult as she felt the walls of the factory closing in on her. He definitely set this whole thing up, he must've, it was all far too contrived for him not to have. For starters, he was wearing a slim white shirt with his navy chinos, he knew she loved him in that white shirt. It slimmed him down and showed off his olive complexion, those tattoos he loved so much well and truly hidden. He, on the other hand, hated that white shirt and she hadn't seen him in it in years, until tonight of course.

Peter observed her from his spot in the doorway as she moved around the factory floor, doing more tidying now than she did the entire time they had co-owned the factory together. He thought of sharing that information with her, but it occurred to him that she remembered that time in their lives slightly differently to him. Tinged for her with the stink of his infidelity. He hated to see her feeling so caged in, knowing this was not the first time an ex-husband had locked her in this place. But when Simon suggested this lock in he could think of no other option to get her to listen to him. He needed her to stay in one place with him long enough to admit that she loved him too, that she never stopped feeling like he did.

He willed her to look at him, even just a glance. He remembered how she used to look at him, full of admiration, she used to look at him as her hero and he had long since given up the idea that she would look at him like that again. Now he would settle for a glance, just a glance in his direction.

With the strong silent routine failing him though he tried to think of something, anything to say that would entice some kind of reaction from her.

"Remember spending that Christmas Day in here?" He finally piped up, nodding towards the spot on the floor where they had had sex.

"I'm not listening to this," she straightened the chair at Sean's machine, still refusing to look over at him.

"We never lost that did we?"

"I'm still not listening," she replied again through gritted teeth, this time marching into the kitchen to find something to tidy in there.

"You were always mind blowing in that department," he followed her, finally feeling like he was on the cusp of a reaction.

"I'm really not listening," she banged the cupboards open and closed, searching for something to clean, anything to distract her. She kicked herself for hiring such efficient cleaners.

"Don't tell me you don't remember how amazing we were together?"

"Right," she finally turned to face him, anger in her eyes. "I'm going into my office now, and if you could give me five flaming minutes alone without you banging on about the past that would be absolutely fantastic!"

She stormed off into the office, slamming the door behind her.

He considered following her but he didn't want to push her too far, she could be vicious when she felt backed into a corner. For the first time that night a niggling feeling crept into his mind that he was wrong, that he had seen what he wanted to see these last few months. Maybe she really didn't still love him, maybe it was a fantasy he had cooked up in his head. He pushed the thought aside though, he would let her stew in the office for a while, when she was calmer he would make one final pitch. If the answer was still no, he would message Simon and end this stupid charade. He flipped the kettle on instead, setting about making her another coffee, Carla could resist most things but she would relent on the coffee.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Peace offering?" he held up a full cup of coffee as he joined her in the office.

She gave him a small smile as he placed it on the desk in front of her. But it quickly vanished when he delved into his trouser pocket and pulled out his phone and placed it next to her coffee.

"You've had that this whole time?" she glowered up at him.

"Alright look," he pulled up a chair so they were facing each other. "You can call Simon, or the police or whoever the hell you want and you'll be out of here in minutes. I don't want you to feel like I'm kidnapping you, or holding you against your will."

"But you are."

"Like I said, I want you to call whoever you need to to get out of here."

She picked the phone up and slowly passed it from one hand to the other, deep in thought. "There's a but coming I assume?"

"Yes."

"Go on then."

"But I'm asking you for just 10 more minutes to say my piece."

"Shouldn't you just have done that in the first place?"

"Like you would've stuck around long enough to listen."

She smiled to herself and leant back in her chair, he did know her better than she cared to admit. "You've got until I finish that coffee."

"Alright, I'll cut straight to the point then," he took a deep breath. "These last few months it's felt like old times, it's felt like it did just before we got together the first time-"

"When you were still married to Leanne you mean?"

"When I realised how much I loved you," he ignored her jibe. "You're my soulmate Carla, I knew it then and I know it now."

"Liam was my soulmate, you're just another bloke that let me down."

"Liam wasn't perfect," Peter replied defensively.

"Do you really think you can compare yourself to him?"

"Would you stop trying to pick a fight, we're on a time limit."

"Peter, we were together for what, three years? In that time, we were both prime suspects in two different murder enquiries, we managed to form a deep deep hatred for each other's in laws, and you fell off the wagon more times than I can count. It was hardly a healthy relationship."

"That was then-"

"Because we're totally different people now? You've still got an addictive personality and low self-esteem and I'm still a mardy control freak. Put all that together and it's a recipe for another dead barmaid."

"You can't reduce our entire relationship to that, like a dead barmaid was inevitable from the beginning."

"I'm just being realistic, you on the other hand seem to have forgotten most of our relationship."

"No I haven't," he told her solemnly. "And I don't think you have either."

"We're just going round in circles here," she picked up the phone from the desk and stood up to leave but he rose to his feet as well.

"We're not those people anymore, what do I need to do to prove to you I've changed?"

"There's nothing you can do, there's nothing you can do that doesn't put my heart at risk again."

"What about when I found out about Billy being involved in Susan's death, I didn't press my self-destruct button then-"

"We'll just paper over the fact you nearly killed the poor bloke."

"What about when everything went down with me and Toyah and Eva, I didn't press the self-destruct button then either."

"What do you want? A medal?"

"Despite everything that's happened, I've not drank in over four years, that's a record for me, I've not cheated on anyone since-"

"Since me?"

"I'm older, wiser, I've got my vices well and truly under control."

"For now."

"Forever."

"Don't write cheques you can't cash."

"Have you got an answer for everything?" he smiled.

"You know I do," she countered, trying her best not to smile back.

Sensing a softening towards him he stepped forward, taking the phone from her hand and placing it back on the desk. He cupped her face with his hand, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her cheekbone, he used to do this all of the time, and she used to relax at his touch each time too, just as she did now.

"I think you've forgiven me, and you're so used to being angry with me you don't even realise it."

She raised her eyes to meet his, as dark and brooding as they had ever been. She hadn't seen them up close like this is years, they were framed now by more wrinkles, they seemed kinder, softer than they used to be.

"I'm petrified Peter," she whispered.

"I know."

"You really hurt me."

"I know."

"And I didn't even see it coming."

"I know."

She brought her hands up to run them through his hair, it was shorter than it used to be but as soft as ever. She rubbed his beard with the back of her fingers, thicker than it used to be, speckled with grey now.

"Can you look me in the eye and say you stopped loving me?" he whispered.

"I don't think I ever figured out how to stop loving you," she finally whispered back.

"Me neither," Peter smiled in return.

She leaned forward and brushed her lips against his, they were so soft, so familiar. He smelt the same, a smell she could never conjure when he wasn't there, a mixture of tobacco and pine. He pulled away, his eyes bore into hers as he silently questioned her, wanting permission for what he could only hope was about to happen. An ache opened in her heart as she remembered how gentle and patient he had been with her that first time, every touch, every kiss had been so delicate. She kissed him again with renewed fervour this time, her body felt like it had finally realised that this is what she had been needing all these years they were apart. No need to be gentle now, as she pulled on his shirt, a shock of excitement rushing through her body as he grabbed her hips in return and pushed her up against her empty desk.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

Peter slowly span them round and round on Carla's swivel chair as she curled up in his lap, her coat slung round them both to keep them warm. She had always felt closest to him at these times, she felt that after sex, her and Peter achieved a level of intimacy she had never had with anyone else. She nuzzled her head into his neck, taking in the events of the night as she traced her finger around the outline of his tattoos.

"I am absolutely dreading our awkward encounter with Daniel," Peter broke the silence.

"Daniel? Oh he'll be fine, it's Tracey I'm petrified of. And Michelle come to think of it. She's going to be fuming."

"Michelle?" Peter asked, surprised. He had always got on so well with Carla's best friend.

"She'll never forgive you for Tina."

"She forgave you for Ali didn't she?"

"That's totally different."

"Is it now? You know you've slept with both her brothers, her fiancé and her son now?"

"Ok, ok let's just enjoy this for five minutes and not talk about any of that."

"Gladly," he laughed and pressed his lips to her forehead.

"We should face facts though, no one's going to be over the moon about this."

"I know," he sighed.

"But at least it won't be as bad as last time round."

"No Frank exposing us, no Stella ranting at us in the street-"

"And we've got Si on board this time, we know that for sure."

"If we're going to send the gossip mill into over drive we might as well go all out, right?" he asked.

"What do you mean?" she pushed herself up so she was staring straight at him and he abruptly stopped spinning the chair.

"Ok so this might sound a little crazy, but bear with me."

"Okay…" she replied slowly, intrigued by what he was about to suggest.

"I've still got our wedding rings, why don't we get married again?"

"Remarry? Oh yeah sure," Carla laughed.

"I'm serious, we could do it all again, properly this time?"

"Properly? As opposed to last time?"

"Yeah."

Carla slowly removed herself from his lap, setting herself down crossed legged on her desk instead, she pulled her coat with her and draped it over herself to cover her modesty.

"What?" he asked innocently, confused by her sudden change in mood.

"I sunk £50,000 into that wedding and you don't think we did it properly?" she stared down at him expectantly.

"Oh come on," Peter reached for his trousers on the floor to cover his own modesty, suddenly feeling very naked under her angry eye. "The massive guest list, the morning suits, that giant wedding dress-"

"Oi, Hayley made that."

"It was very nice love, but it was flaming massive. We had Whitney Houston as our first dance, talk about cliché. My dad and Deirdre couldn't even make it, all of the family you have now weren't there. It became this monster that wasn't us."

"Well what would you do?"

"What would I do?"

"Yeah, go on. If I did it all wrong, then what's the right way to do it."

"Alright then, I would book a beautiful but small hotel near where I grew up in Scotland. Only invite close family, spend the money on amazing food and wine to treat those people we actually care about. We're not new to this, we don't need to throw a bouquet, we don't need them suits with the tails or big white dresses. We can organise this how we want, screw those ridiculous traditions, they never worked out for us anyway."

"You've actually thought about this," Carla's anger subsided.

"Yes, I have."

"So, go on then, no cliché of Whitney Houston, what would you pick for our first dance?"

" _Laid_ by James," he replied matter-of-factly.

" _Laid_?" Carla threw her head back and laughed, a full-throated cackle that he hadn't heard in so long. "Peter we can't have that!"

"Why not?"

"It's about the sex life of a dysfunctional couple, I am not dancing to that with you, in front of Roy Cropper."

"At least it's not a cliché like _I Have Nothing_ was."

"There must be something that's not a total cliché that also doesn't mention our sex life."

"What about _Couldn't Love You More_?"

"Bit boring, what about _Make You Feel My Love_?"

"You're still in cliché territory love, what about that song _January_ that I sang to you?"

"I told you then, I hate January."

"You know what always reminds me of you?" Peter smiled up at her.

"What?"

He reached over the desk and picked up his phone, searching through it for something she couldn't see. He finally found what he was looking for and pressed play, popping his phone back onto the desk, letting his song fill the room through the tinny speakers on his phone.

"Is this that Tommy McLain song?"

" _Before I Grow Too Old_ , yeah."

"Doesn't it say something about kissing all the pretty girls?" she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Well yeah, but I think we've established that I already did that."

"Not funny."

"This song was on that Jukebox at Susie's in LA, it reminds me of all those nights sat on the terrace, staring out at the sea, eating that rabbit food you get out there. Lying in that hammock with you barely wearing anything, all tanned and beautiful."

"I loved that hammock," she smiled fondly at the memory.

"Well then, let's get married again and dance to it at our wedding."

She looked down at his suspiciously. He seemed so much more confident in himself now, she always felt like she had railroaded him into the marriage last time, but he had so much conviction this time. The man looking hopefully up at her now was not the man that cheated on her, this was the man that had once rescued her from Frank, from alcohol, from herself.

"Alright then," she smiled. "Let's do it."

"Really?" he replied disbelieving.

"Really," she nodded, clambering back down onto him and sending her lips crashing against his.

"Did we just get engaged?" he pulled away from her, looking into her big green eyes.

"I think we might've done," she laughed.

He pulled her in for a hug as their bodies melted into each other, he began to slowly spin the chair round again as the tinny sound of their new first dance song filled the office.


End file.
